


A Story for the Angels.

by DarkAngel2891



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angel Crowley (Good Omens), Bittersweet Ending, Bookshop Owner Aziraphale (Good Omens), Character Death, Chatty Crowley, Human Aziraphale (Good Omens), Kind Aziraphale (Good Omens), Stubborn Aziraphale (Good Omens), cheating death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-21
Updated: 2021-01-21
Packaged: 2021-03-13 08:08:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28900185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkAngel2891/pseuds/DarkAngel2891
Summary: Aziraphale is 57 years old. He runs a bookshop in the little town of Tadfield. He's a kind man who the local children adore for his way with telling stories and softness. One day a mysterious man with fire red hair and golden eyes comes into his store. Aziraphale's life will change upon meeting the man.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Anathema Device, Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 15
Kudos: 45
Collections: Good Omens Human AUs





	A Story for the Angels.

**Author's Note:**

> I have the entire original run of the Twilight Zone series. I love the series and this story is based off of one of my favorite episodes. 
> 
> Called a Pitch for the Angels it stars a kind old man not ready to face death. This is all I can say up here, check the end notes.  
> .  
> Technically human AU, Aziraphale is human and Crowley is a angel who never fell. I do hope you like it.  
> .  
> Crowley's proper angel name, isn't mentioned, he just gives off the name he chose for himself.

Monday

* * *

Aziraphale Fell winced slightly as his old knee twinged from the rain. He nevertheless continued to open his shop, pulling back the dark curtains and leaving the lace ones underneath. He whistled something reminiscent of Beethoven or Bach. Flipping his sign to open and unlocking the door he greets another day in the little town of Tadfield. 

He smiles politely at all the customers that come and greet him. Shadwell in his usual grumbling asks for the old newspapers which Aziraphale hands over. The man is lucky that Aziraphale had revoked the lifetime ban on behalf of Shadwell's wife Madame Tracy. The first time he'd come in, Aziraphale found him in the middle of cutting articles from his old logs. 

He had nearly popped a blood vessel in rage, throwing the man out and telling him to stay out. 

Many months later he had met Madame Tracy who apart from being a delightful conversationalist, brought him all sorts of delightful treats. He was willing to let Shadwell back in and to have access to the extra papers so long as none of his books were touched. 

The bell rings again signaling the arrival of Anathema and Newt. A lovely young couple who have lived in Tadfield for about two years now. 

"Hello my dears." Aziraphale says, smiling as they approach. "Quite a lovely day isn't it?" 

They greet him with smiles on their faces and Anathema goes looking in the occult section while Newt opens a book about computer repair or something. Aziraphale has never been bothered to care all that much. The bell rings again and a man with vibrant red hair and dark sunglasses walks in. He stares at Aziraphale for a few minutes before heading further into the shop. 

The day ticks by and soon it's Aziraphale's favorite time of the day. He smiles as the kids file in heading to the reading corner. He heads that way grabbing the books he picked out for today. 

"Good afternoon my dears." Aziraphale says joy in his voice as he sits down. 

"Good afternoon Mr.Fell!" The kids respond.

"I've got a great couple of books for us today, but I thought we'd finish our previous story first." Aziraphale pulls out the Coraline book and picks up where they left off. Making sure to get the voices right. 

The children listen with rapture as he reads. It's hard not to get sucked into the world when Mr.Fell reads to them. He has such warmth and glee to his voice that it spreads out over the amassed people, Even adults find themselves listening in. Aziraphale spots redhead peeking behind the shelves.

Two hours pass by and it's time for the shop to begin closing. Aziraphale finishes the last book and bids the children goodbye. They let out complaints as usual but start to get up and get ready to go. One of them is waiting by the checkout, he's holding a book and practically bouncing up and down. 

"Hello Adam, what have you got today?" Aziraphale says. 

"I got Biggles in France." He says, gently putting the book on the counter. He pulled out a five pound note to hand over.

Aziraphale looked at the price sticker, it was eight pounds not five, it was a third edition about eleven years old. He simply smiled and accepted the money handing the book over to the boy and waving as the boy left. Aziraphale went through the store making sure the customers knew it was time to leave. They all waved goodbye but Aziraphale never saw the redhead leave. He wanders through the shelves replacing the mislaid books and dusting when he hears something fall and a squeal of pain. He rushes over to the next isle and sees the red-head on the floor after accidentally pulling a stack of books on himself. The man is trying to get up but making more of a mess, his sunglasses hanging off his face.

Aziraphale moves some of the books and grabs the man's hand. Their eyes lock and he's taken aback by what he sees. Amber colored eyes that put gold to shame, They're absolutely beautiful. The man puts on his sunglasses and ducks his head. 

"Yeah.. they're umm…. contacts! Yes! they're contacts." He says nervously. 

He bends to pick up a book and slams his head into the bookshelf causing him to stumble forward and Aziraphale has to catch him.

Aziraphale doesn't hesitate to scoop the man up and carry him to the front where there's a seat right next to the window. 

"Hold on just a minute dear boy, I have a first aid kit right next to the register." Aziraphale sits him down. He grabs the kit and returns to the man.

"No, no I'm fine." Red-head tries to wave him off but too late, Aziraphale is placing a strip of gauze to the cut on his head. 

"Nonsense dear boy. A head wound is not a laughing matter. You should go to…….." Aziraphale trails off as he pulls away the gauze to reveal golden blood. "A&E". Aziraphale backs away, staring at the red-head in shock.

The red-head jumps up. "I guess now would be the time to say 'Be not afraid' right?" The red-head laughs nervously. 

Aziraphale looks at the man, his chest rises and falls rapidly. "What are you?" He asks his throat dry and tight. 

The red-head looks at him seemingly warring with himself.

*Arrgh* He groans.

"I'll tell you but H.O. cannot know about this. It'll look bad on my record." He says letting out a frustrated snort. 

Aziraphale just nods silently in shock. 

"All right I want you to know that I'm not here to harm you, I wasn't supposed to reveal myself yet but. I'm an angel." Red-head spread his hands out in a sweeping look at me! motion. Black wings sprout from his back.

*Cough* 

Aziraphale clears his throat.

"You're an angel. An ANGEL angel, like heaven and big fluffy wings singing endless songs of praise." Aziraphale says. 

"Err... Kinda. There's a lot of logistics and paperwork involved. Also not really what the Christians thought." Red-head explains. 

Aziraphale takes a deep breath. "Right.. please excuse me for a moment." 

He heads to his back room, grabs some good vintage wine and a couple of glasses. He heads back out and hands one to the angel, popping open the bottle he fills both their glasses. Raising his he gives a toast.

"To our meeting…?" Aziraphale begins.

"Err, you can call me Crowley." Red-head offers. 

Crowley watches him down the liquid and he sniffs his glass. Taking a cautious sip his face lights up and he drinks more. 

"Well I do have some questions. That is if you don't mind answering them." Aziraphale says. 

Crowley shrugs and holds his cup out for more of the strange liquid. The hours pass as they talk.

"So who got it right?" Aziraphale asks. 

"Who got what right?" Crowley looks up from the couch he's crashed on.

He's drunk about three cups of the liquid and it's making him feel chatty. He's told Aziraphale about how long he's been around. The people he's met and places he's gone. He got a little misty eyed talking about Freddy Mercury, he actually cried when he brought up Leonardo DiVinci. Aziraphale just watches him, his slim and fit figure is making him a little hot under the collar.

"The afterlife, heaven and hell thing. Which religion got it right?" Aziraphale says shifting in his chair.

"Ehh..all of you, but also none of you. It's complicated." Crowley explains wiggling his fingers, Aziraphale looks at him eager for more information. 

"People don't go to heaven or hell based upon what they believe or who they worship. It's more based on your actions on earth." Crowley says. 

Aziraphale is about to ask another question but Crowley puts his hand up. 

"Before you ask no I can't tell you where you're going. Not until you're officially dead at least." 

Aziraphale's face falls a little, Crowley is trying to lick the dregs out of the glass.

"Don't think about it too hard, you'll find out in a couple of days." He says, the wine having loosened his tongue. 

Aziraphale pales at this. "I'll find what out in a couple days?" He asks, his chest tight. 

"The whole heaven, hell thing. You've only got about three more days." Crowley says absentmindedly, he overturns the glass and a couple of moments go by before he realizes what he's said. He jumps up almost immediately making himself sober.

Fear and terror passes over Aziraphale's face.

"Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! I wasn't supposed to tell you yet. Ah damn it." Crowley stands up and runs his hands through his hair. 

"I'm going to die in three days?" Aziraphale's voice is small and brittle. 

"I'm sorry. I wasn't supposed to break the news like this. There's a whole script I'm supposed to follow and I've buggered it up. Plus I wasn't supposed to talk to you until wednesday." Crowley is cursing himself.

"But I'm only 57! Sure I don't eat as well as I should but I exercise and I still make sure to get my vitamins." Aziraphale's voice is pleading. 

Crowley runs his hand over his face sighing. 

"That's not what kills you. You're going to die in your sleep, you have a blood clot in your head. It won't hurt, you just won't wake up." He tries to explain. 

"You honestly think that makes me feel better? To hear that I'm going to fall asleep and not wake up!" Aziraphale is practically shouting. 

"Doesn't it? I mean I would think that's the ideal way to go." Crowley ponders. 

"Well I refuse." Aziraphale states. 

Crowley shakes his head.

"You can't refuse this. It's going to happen whether you like it or not. Three days from now at 12:04 a.m. Thursday, you're going to die." Crowley's voice is strained and precise.

"I'm not ready to die, surely there must be some mistake! I quite like being alive." Aziraphale is struggling to not go into a full blown panic attack. 

"I am sure you have the wrong person." He placates. 

Crowley groans and pulls out something that looks like those tablet phones that Anathema and Newt have. He clicks on the screen a couple of times. 

"Aziraphale Fell, 57 years old. Born in London 1964. Only child of Marie and Johnathan Fell. Your mother passed away when you were 13 and your father passed away when you were 54. You've lived in Tadfield for the past 31 years, you own this bookshop where you also run a reading program for the local children. Does this sound like you?" He asks. 

Aziraphale nods grimly. "Surely there must be some way out of this! Something I can do." He's desperate for anything. 

Crowley rubs his neck again before clicking on the screen a couple of times. 

"If you had any unfinished business, say a trip you wanted to take or anything like that I could get you a bit of an extension on your terms end." He offered up. 

Aziraphale lights up at this. "I've always wanted to write a book, one that could change people's lives. A story fit for angels. It's been a dream of mine since I learned how to read and write. I wouldn't feel complete without writing it." He smiles sweetly at Crowley. 

Crowley hesitates to return the smile.

"This isn't an easy thing you're asking for. Someone has to die at the scheduled time in order for you to be skipped." 

"Can't you just choose someone who is ready to die, like a terminally ill 98 year old. Someone who is more prepared and welcoming." Aziraphale offers. 

Crowley sighs. "I'm not consulted on things like this. I'm just a glorified assistant. But we have a deal, you will be given exactly one extension on your life. I can't say how long it will be so I encourage you to finish up your business." He holds his hand out and Aziraphale takes it. 

"Thank you my dear. Truly." Aziraphale says as the man gets up to head out. They walk to the front of the shop.

"By the way, I don't think it would be wise to go around telling people of this. For one they won't believe you and two only those who are about to die can see me." Crowley hesitates on opening the door. He turns around and looks at Aziraphale. 

"Don't waste this second chance." 

He leaves and Aziraphale feels relief spread throughout his body. 

He heads to bed and gets up grateful for another day.

Tuesday

* * *

In the morning he actually goes into his closet and pulls out the book he'd been working on for the past thirty or so years. 

He kept putting it off and now he feels he has a reason to keep putting it off. He'll get around to it someday but it won't be today. 

The day goes well and Aziraphale is feeling better with each passing hour. Anathema is chatting with him for a bit before the kids are set to arrive for story hour. 

"Anything interesting happening lately?" She asks looking at him with a soft if somewhat somber smile on her face. 

"I've been reviewing my book, I keep saying that I'm going to write it. I think if I really sat down and focused I could get it out in no time at all." He says with a smile. 

As they chat they hear the sound of tires screeching on the pavement and kids screaming and crying. They rush outside where a car is at a standstill there are kids in front of the car. The driver tumbles out looking shell shocked and reeking of alcohol.

"Help! Someone help us!" Wensleydale says, looking terrified.

"Adam! Adam! Wake up! Stop playing." Pepper is pulling on her friend's jacket. 

"This isn't funny Adam. I don't like this game." Brian's voice is choked and frightened. 

Aziraphale rushes to the front of the car. There on the pavement with his leg bent the wrong way and blood coming from somewhere on his head is Adam. Anathema pulls Brian and Pepper back as Aziraphale inspects him. 

"Come on Adam, wake up my dear boy." Aziraphale pats his cheek and Adam stirs. 

Hazel eyes flutter open and Adam lets out a gasp. He looks at Aziraphale, he tries to get up but Aziraphale holds him still. 

"Try not to move, I know it hurts but the paramedics are on their way. I just need you to stay still ok?" Aziraphale's voice wavers with fear. 

The paramedics get Adam on to the stretcher, Aziraphale follows holding Adam's hand. 

"Your parents will probably be waiting for you at the hospital. You'll be alright my dear. You'll be just fine." 

"Mr. Fell." Adam says sleepily.

"What is dear boy?" Aziraphale responds.

"Who is that man over there?" Adam points to the wall of the shop.

There leaned against it is a man with bright red hair. The man watches the proceedings and taps on his phone. Aziraphale's face falls.

"It's just a random tourist I imagine. Nothing to worry about. Now you listen to what the doctors tell you to do. Promise me all right." Aziraphale says as they load the boy into the ambulance.

The boy nods and the doors shut scooping him off to the hospital. Ringing his hands Aziraphale approaches Anathema who has the kids gathered. They're all crying and clinging to her. 

"Will you make sure they get home, I have some business to attend to." Aziraphale says distractedly as he watches Crowley get up and start to leave. 

Anathema looks at where her friend is looking and nods. "Of course I will…. just make the wise decision Aziraphale." she says. 

Aziraphale starts to follow Crowley, the man shaped being ducks out of the crowd that is forming to see what happened. Aziraphale catches up to Crowley and grabs his arm. Swinging him around into an alley and pushing him against the wall. 

"You bastard! You didn't say that a child would be replacing me!" He growls in the angel's face.

He has pinned him down with one arm across the angel's chest. 

Crowley growls back. "I said that someone has to replace you. I also said that I don't get consulted on who I'm assigned to." Crowley pushes him off. He strides towards Aziraphale, grabs him by his lapels and pushes him against the opposite wall. 

"Do you think I get a kick out of taking a kid? That it's some game for me? I never get to choose who I take. You traded places and you're going to have to live with it. In 48 hours that child will pass away in his sleep, I can't change that." He gives an extra shove before disappearing with the sound of feedback. 

Aziraphale dusts himself off and heads home. Once in his shop he shutters the windows and closes up. Grabbing a bottle of wine he sits down on his chair and begins to sob.

"This isn't what I meant! I don't want a child taking my place! I just wasn't ready to die. God forgive me this wasn't what I wanted." He says bitterly. 

He polishes off the bottle and as he heads up stairs to bed he pauses when he catches sight of his unfinished manuscript. 

"Look at you. Thirty years and I still haven't finished you, who am I kidding. I was never going to finish you." He picks it up and flips through the pages. 

"I spent years reading and studying and writing. But I couldn't bring myself to accomplish the one thing that would have truly made me happy." Aziraphale sets the bottle down and tears fall from his eyes. 

Suddenly a wave of determination washes over him. He pulls out his typewriter, checks that everything is working and begins to type. The buttons click and clack with a satisfactory ring every time it reaches the end of the page. 

Wednesday

* * *

Aziraphale has borrowed Madame Tracy's moped as he speeds along, Briefcase tied securely to him. He has spent last night and all day writing, he barely stopped to use the toilet. He pulls into the parking lot of the hospital and parks. He looks at his pocket watch- 10:43 p.m. Wednesday. Walking into the hospital he steels himself. 

"Can I help you sir?" A tired looking woman in a candy striper outfit addresses him. 

"Yes, I'm Adam Young's...umm grandfather. On his mother's side. I heard that he is here." He says, he's probably smiling too much but he will sneak in another way if he has to. 

The woman consults her screen.

"He's in the I.C.U room 402. He's only allowed two visitors at a time so you'll have to work something out with your daughter." She informs him.

Aziraphale nods and heads up to the proper floor. He gets off on four and walks the hall towards Adam's room. He can see the boy and his parents through the glass. His mom is laying down on the couch, he can see the exhaustion on her face from where he's standing. Adam's father is draped over his son's bed, head hanging in his hands. Adam is covered in bandages and has a cast on his leg. Aziraphale knocks very gently.

Mr. & Mrs. Young look up and see the kindly book store owner standing there nervously. Adam talks about him so much, he's known around town for being the softest and gentlest man. 

"I really hate to intrude but I have something that I want to share with Adam. If you don't mind." He says nervous, pulling out his finished book. 

"It's a book I wrote and I know he loves coming to my story time and-." 

Aziraphale is cut off by Mrs. Young.

"Please do, whatever might help him wake up. He fell into a coma and the doctors don't know if he'll survive." Tears are pouring down his parent's faces. 

Aziraphale comes in and sits down. He greets the boy. "Hello Adam, I have something I wrote and I think you'll like it."

He sets his manuscript on his lap and opens it to the first page. He hears the sound of feedback and sees Crowley is there in the room. Well he's not going to let the angel near Adam until he's done.

"Once upon a time, there lived a brave knight." He begins. 

For over an hour Aziraphale reads out his story. He has the attention of everyone in the room including the angel. He looks up at the clock. 11:54 p.m. it reads he sneaks a glance at the angel who is listening to him read without even glancing at Adam. 

"And when all was said and done. Mara thought to herself that it had been a marvelous adventure and that she was ready to go to bed. She fell asleep and dreamed of all of her new friends, knowing that they were only a pleasant hike away." Aziraphale finished his story and glanced at the clock 12:09 a.m. it read. Crowley stood up and left the room. 

Aziraphale breathed out a sigh of relief. As he did Adam stirred. 

"Mummy? Dad?" He asked in a groggy voice. 

"Adam!" They both cried out and surrounded their son. 

Aziraphale slipped out whilst they fussed over their boy. Crowley was waiting for him in the hall. 

"I suppose I've thwarted your assignment." Aziraphale says a little proudly. 

"That you have Aziraphale. Are you ready?" He holds out his hand. A small smile on his face.

"Just one moment." Aziraphale walks up to a nurse. "Excuse me mam." He says she pauses. 

"Would you be so kind as to make sure my friends in room 402 get this, they're a bit busy and I'd hate to disturb them." He hands over his briefcase and a letter. 

"Sure can." She takes the items. 

"Thank you my dear, I am forever grateful to you." He pats her hand and turns back to Crowley. 

Taking the angel's hand he walks outside with him. 

"You said that you'd tell me where I'm going." Aziraphale reminds him. 

"Well we are always in need of Angels like you." Crowley smiles and gives a small kiss to his knuckles. They vanish into the crisp summer air.

* * *

Anathema looks around the shop she was bequeathed, it feels so empty without Aziraphale. She brushes her fingers along the spines of the books. She inhales that delightful scent of old paper, a bit of must and an undertone of coco.

On the counter next to the cash register is an envelope with her name on it. 

_ My dearest friend Anathema, I have lived many years and not known friendship like I had with you. I wish we could have known each other longer. I know it's never easy to say goodbye, but it's another path in life. Please take care of my shop and my books.(Don't you dare sell any from my personal collection!). I do hope that you find someone to replace me for storytime. I _ _ have to tell you this because I'm sure you're the only one who will believe me. Angels are real! I met one, he told me that I was to die in three days from meeting him. I was able to extend my time by trading for someone else's. I never dreamed it would be a child's life. I cannot not let Adam take my place. I am making this decision with the hope that it will work. If you could be so kind as to send my book to a publisher I'd appreciate it. Even if all it gets is an author's copy I'd love the idea of it being out there. Be kind and be wise my dear girl. May we meet on a better occasion. _

_ Aziraphale. _

Anathema crying now as she reads the letter over and over again. She knew something was off that day but she couldn't say anything. Death doesn't like to wait for anyone. She looks over the book and at the back of it is a list of ideas to continue the series. She swears that her business won't be finished until she gets these out into the world. 

**Author's Note:**

> So the tags are probably a dead giveaway to what happens in the story. Now I want my readers to remember that Aziraphale made his choice and that he's more than likely in a better place. Plus he has a cute friend to travel alongside him.  
> .  
> .  
> I feed off of your comments, constructive criticism is welcomed I am using fanfiction to perfect my skills.


End file.
